


Breathe in now

by minutemarch



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Things that didn't happen, around things that did happen, not!fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/pseuds/minutemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Niki Lauda lays battling to recover from his devastating crash in Germany he only wants to do what needs to be done with as little fuss as possible but, of course, James Hunt can never go anywhere without causing a fuss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe in now

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be fluffier but it fought back. That's is what happens when you write from Niki's perspective I guess! Also, James gets called "Hunt" a lot in the narrative. This is also Niki's fault.
> 
> Additional: I wrote half of this before I even saw the film. I have a problem.
> 
> I have never written these guys before so I hope it's not too scary.

Niki had never really thought much about ceilings. Unless they were low enough to bump the top of the head or painted up in the story of Creation few people did but he was familiar with every mark on the surface above him. There was a dark smudge three feet from the left wall. A crack ran at a 45 degree angle from half-way along the right edge. 

There was a dent in the plaster near the centre of the room and Niki wondered vaguely how it got there. He realised he had no idea what colour the floor was but it was hard to give it more thought than that. The heavy drugs left little room for in-depth contemplation. He fell asleep again before he’d worked out if it was day or night.

~

Next time he woke up his hand was empty. It was the first thing he noticed. Marlene must have been sleeping. That was good. She should sleep. He did not want her to burn herself out. He counted ceiling tiles till he fell asleep too. He should. He needed sleep. This time it was okay, it would only be sleep.

~

The morphine made it hard to tell reality from dream at times. He’d see a figure beside him, try and focus on it, and it’d be gone. A sense memory or illusion. He felt a fool when he realised he’d spoken to the air and listened carefully in the seconds after to make sure he was alone. He didn’t want anyone to think he was losing his marbles, for his sake and Marlene’s. He lay still under the brief gaze of a fictional nurse and for a long time after, straining his ears to pick up the hushed sounds betraying the location of the staff. He poked at his slim memories of the crash until he fell asleep again.

~

He woke to the brush of fingers just below his elbows. It was irritating. The fingers were too thick to belong to his wife. Big hands. Irritating.  
“Stop that,” he muttered. It was hardly a long bow to draw to put a name to his visitor and the all too familiar voice that answered confirmed it. The hand withdrew. 

“Same old Niki,” James Hunt replied. There was relief in the voice and on the face that drifted into his view. There was worry too. Niki supposed it made sense for Hunt to come but he was tired and sore and didn’t feel like trading barbs. He also didn’t feel like admitting it though it was ridiculous to pretend he was fine considering where he was so he said nothing on it. Hunt would do his thing regardless and Niki would ride it out as always.

“Hope they’re treating you okay,” James said, his voice a little rough. Niki wondered how long Hunt had been hovering in the corridor, how long it had been since he used his voice. He’d never seen Hunt look so... small.

“They’re doing what needs to be done,” Niki said matter-of-factly. If what needed to be done was arguing about his treatment in front of him like he wasn’t even there. He was aching to call them out on that one, eager to apply anger to cover the fact they’d frightened him.

Hunt pulled his chair a bit closer and the line of Niki’s mouth thinned. He did not want James Hunt mooning over him. A part of him was angry at Hunt and his cavalier attitude. A part of him blamed the Brit. They’d have words later. Right now Niki was waiting for Hunt to get what he came for and leave him in peace. He needed Hunt on the track more than at his side. He needed an incentive to fight when all he wanted to do was sleep. Was stop.

James looked up at the greyed-out screen of the television. Of course Niki wouldn’t switch off, even here. “Missed you in Austria,” he said, sounding serious but then adding, “Had no idea where to get a good sandwich.”

Niki actually snorted. “When you find out bring one for me,” he said. 

“You got it. Cheese right? Rats like cheese or is that a myth?” James pulled his little buck-toothed face and waggled his head.  
“Fuck off,” Niki said, half-annoyed, half grateful that Hunt wasn’t trying to coddle him. Still, he wanted Hunt gone before his cluster of medics came back. They never left him alone for long. It was good that they didn’t, there was much to do, but he didn’t want an audience.

James grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes, Niki lay still and noticed everything. Hunt clearly hadn’t been sleeping well. He looked drawn and tired. Niki wasn’t impressed James had come to see him rather than spent time recovering for the next race. He should be pressing his advantage or did he just assume the championship was his now by default? Niki wasn’t sure that it wasn’t. The thought didn’t improve his mood.

“I’m sure you have much you need to do,” Niki lied. Hunt had a way of finding a great deal of nothing useful at all to do and it was no secret.  
James smiled again.  
“Actually I have the rest of the day free, managed to move some things around. You’d be surprised what I can fit into my schedule.” Niki could only frown with his mouth but it was impressive how expressive he could be with it. “Or maybe not,” James added with another, irritating, smile. Niki realised Hunt thought he was helping. He just wished he’d do it somewhere else.

One of his doctors came in, all efficiency and sure movements. Niki’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his focus shifting away from James and following the white-coated man. Niki tried to ignore him as he checked the instruments, fiddled with the blood-pressure cuff and consulted the chart. Sometimes they didn’t talk to him at all and he liked that. He hoped this was one of those times. 

The doctor listened to Niki’s chest and lifted the edge of the heavy dressings on his head, earning a wince from the young racer. Blood had already seeped through it and the doctor curled his lip a little in thought, humming softly, briefly warning Niki of what was to be done next. Niki was very aware of James shifting in his chair, watching the doctor and what he was doing with great interest and great concern. Niki was struck by the thought that Hunt silent was as troublesome as Hunt prattling on about nothing. As if he knew what was coming James moved closer again and rested a hand over a clear patch of skin on Niki’s arm. Niki didn’t tell him to remove it as the doctor checked over the raw wounds, not trusting his voice.

“I have the rest of the day,” James said softly. _Not a comfort. A distraction._ It was no different to watching James Hunt race, he told himself. Irritation he could use. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted aside from the doctor to do what he had to do quickly and for Hunt to stop mucking around and go do his job but he knew what he needed. He didn’t believe in regrets and Hunt wasn’t moving. That only left acceptance.

The doctor left but only to gather recruits and fresh dressings for the nurses to apply. Niki twisted his fingers in the stiff sheets without even thinking about it. James squeezed the narrow bones in his forearm together till it ached and Niki was grateful for the small pain.

“Tell me about Austria,” he said tightly, the rasp of his breathing picking up pace.  
“Well it’s green and they speak this… I think it’s German there. No one has a sense of humour but the beer is okay.”  
“Dummkopf,” Niki snapped, not without affection. His light tone was lost a moment later at the pull of gauze against his raw skin. He gritted his teeth, forcing out, “Tell me about the race.”  
If Hunt was going to stay he was going to be useful.

James shifted a little as if he had suddenly been struck by an uncomfortable topic. Of course Niki knew where Hunt had finished but that wasn’t why he’d asked. “Well it almost didn’t happen because it seems the world really _does_ revolve around you, so that’s good news,” Hunt started, his tone light to indicate he was teasing. Niki managed a grimace for that. “I was amazing, of course. Some other people turned up also. Not to watch so much. I think there were more people on the track than in the crowd. I tried not to take it personally.” 

Niki was irritated at the jokes at the same time he was grateful for them but none of that he could convey now and Hunt seemed to pick up on it, seemingly happy to hold up both sides of the conversation as he ignored the nurses that stepped around him. Niki struggled to find the presence of mind to notice that now, pulled violently into base emotions and sensations that threatened to consume him.

James Hunt tightened his grip on his friend’s arm, did his best to keep his own voice and his gaze steady. “Watson was in a bad mood after. Had to shave off his face fuzz. I suggested he grow it back and dye it green.”

Hunt fell quiet for a moment as the largest part of the dressing was pulled away. Niki’s cry drew and involuntary action from Hunt as he brought up his other hand and covered the back of Niki’s bandaged one. Niki flipped his wrist and gripped James’ hand back. The press against the raw skin hurt. It was just what he needed. He’d use the pain he could control to steady himself instead. 

James shifted as close as he could without interfering with the doctors’ progress, his voice a little softer but raised over the harsh sounds of Niki’s pained breaths. “The third lap was tricky. My gearbox jammed, again. I thought that was the end of the race for me. Must have held my mouth right though cause it settled down after a little kick." 

Niki gripped James’ hand so tight his skin turned white, stretching the melted skin on the back of his hand. He could feel James’ upper hand pinning his arm to the bed and he tried to focus on that, tried to push against it as his bones popped and strained. 

“ _God,_ ” James whispered as Niki's face was revealed. Niki heard him swallow thickly but he could no longer speak, much as he wanted to tell him tersely _he wasn’t helping._ Hunt must have realised it though because his face swung back into Niki’s swimming vision a moment later to give him a blow by blow of the race, to tell him pointless anecdotes about the other drivers, to insult Niki’s homeland in his usual tongue-in-cheek way. Niki only heard half of it, didn’t need to hear the other half, but he was grateful his doctor’s hadn’t made Hunt leave. This time.

Once the worst of it was over and the clean bandages were gently applied Niki took a minute to collect his breathing, to refocus his eyes. His grip on Hunt’s hand slowly eased.

The doctor emptied a syringe into Niki’s arm and told James that his friend would be asleep soon in thickly-accented English. Hunt nodded but didn’t move. The doctor and his team withdrew, taking the bloodied dressings with him, a few of the nurses taking a moment to smile down at James. _What a kind man. What a good friend._

Gradually Niki’s breathing settled enough for him to speak, a pained rasp. “Sure you have… things to do,” he said again.  
“I’m doing them,” James said. Niki nodded once. He didn’t pull his hand away, just let his head fall to the side a fraction and evened out his breathing as the drugs, once again, took hold.  
“You should get more sleep,” he said so softly James had to lean in close to hear. “You look like arse.”  
“Then I’d better,” James Hunt grinned down at him, “Or they’ll mistake us for twins.” 

James kept on holding Niki’s hand while he drifted into sleep, urging each wheezing breath, sitting awake through the small hours, completely dismissing Niki’s advice of course.

Same old Hunt.


End file.
